


Drinking Problem

by Chibiness87



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Belle saves herself, F/M, She's kickass like that, True Love, season 1 AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:08:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27962039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chibiness87/pseuds/Chibiness87
Summary: Emma Swan is not having a good day.Nor, would it seem, is Regina
Relationships: Belle/Rumplestiltskin | Mr. Gold
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37





	Drinking Problem

Drinking problem  
Rating: G.  
Season: 1. Canon divergence.  
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, but I do own the sandbox that is my mind.

Emma Swan was not having a good day. Nor, would it seem, was Regina.

* * *

Truth be told, Emma was not having the best day. This was because of, but not limited to, Henry being mad at her, Mary Margaret taking Henry’s side, and Regina making her life especially difficult, mainly because of reasons one and two. She isn't really sure what she has done to spike her biological son’s ire this time either. But whatever it was, it left her with a son not talking to her, a flat mate not speaking to her, and the mayor blaming her for everything. Okay, so the last thing was sort of par for the course of late, but still.

Bad day.

And then, because life normally likes to kick someone when they’re down, a call comes in to the station which makes her bad day seem like it’s about to get a whole lot worse.

Though not, by all accounts, as bad as Regina’s.

She has never met the small woman holding the mayor at knifepoint in her own office. Has never seen her, and in a town where she’s beginning to think she’s met everyone, that’s saying something. But the woman, for it is a woman, despite her small stature there is a wealth of age behind the blue eyes staring her down, is holding something sharp and metal to the body of the mayor, and if it wasn’t quite so desperate Emma has the feeling she would be cackling with laughter.

Regina held at knifepoint by someone the size of her ten year old son.

As if this town wasn’t crazy enough to begin with.

What makes it even _more_ crazy, if such a thing were possible, is there is no sign of madness behind the blue eyes. She is in complete control of the situation and she knows it. This is no act of desperation, no cry for help. If anything, this is a plan long time thought out and if the whole idea wasn’t completely bonkers Emma would be pretty certain the woman was insane.

And then she starts speaking, and she realises she may have to rethink that.

“You. I don’t know you. I mean, I don’t know a lot of people. I never got much in the way of visitors, you see. He didn’t like me meeting people. But it’s okay. I had him and he had me. Me and him and our cup. It’s special, you see.” And then the woman sighs. Looks down for a moment, shakes her head, as if despairing at her own foolishness. “And oh, I’m probably explaining this all wrong and you don’t understand me at all…” she stops again. Sighs. Looks at her for the first time in long minutes. “I need Rum.”

It’s the first thing she’s said that doesn’t sound completely mad, the first thing she asks for, and once again Emma is struck by just how clear and precise the words are. Once again she has the feeling she’s missing something.

Something big with a capital B.

“Rum?”

And her eyes light up, like she’s pleased someone understands her. Like she’s making complete sense and Emma is the first person to believe every word she says. “Yes. If you could bring me Rum, everything will be okay.”

Regina makes a small moan at this, and Emma cannot but help stare at her. Because it sounds, just for a moment, as if the mayor is scared of this little woman. And yeah, okay, knife, but until the demand was made her face had been composed. It is only this demand that makes her falter, and once again the feeling of missing something takes over.

But her day is not going to get any better if she just stands here staring.

She knows she’s not supposed to bargain with people who barge in and take people hostage with knives, which, question number one for when she gets everyone out of this situation is going to be how the hell the situation even arose, but that’s for later. Right now she has a woman who may or may not be insane and/or drunk, demanding rum, and holding the most powerful person in the town hostage.

She feels negotiating may actually have some benefit after all.

“If get you rum, you’ll let the mayor go?”

The woman holding the blade tilts her head in a way that makes Emma thinks she’s considering her offer. Who knows, maybe this is a cry for help after all.

“Possibly.”

It’s more than what she had before, so she’ll take it.

“And Regina? Is she allowed to ask for anything?”

Emma’s not stupid. She knows who has the power here. She may have a gun, but this woman, whoever she is, has the advantage of distance. Even if she could get a shot off there’s no guarantee it’ll be enough to stop her stabbing the mayor in a place too fatal for her to be able to do anything.

“Hmmm.” The woman tilts her head like she’s seriously considering allowing her captive to make her own demands, before she shakes her head. “No. I don’t think so. Not now.” And then, just when she thought she was safe and clear and could possibly get out of this whole situation without bloodshed, the blade presses close, not breaking the skin but the intention there. a reminder of power that makes both Emma and Regina wince. “I think she can wait for a little while longer.”

“You know, I’m not supposed to make deals with people like you.”

And then the smile is back, bright and blinding. “There is no one else like me.”

And not for the first time since arriving at the scene, Emma has the feeling she hasn’t just been lied to.

###

She goes to the store.

Of course she does. There is a woman with a knife holding the mayor hostage, and the only thing she has been demanding is rum, and while it is an odd request, it isn't exactly unreasonable. She plans to swing by the hospital and Dr Hopper’s office, see if there are any mentions of a young girl with a drinking problem. Maybe she’s in rehab and something has triggered a relapse. It wouldn’t be the first time something like that has happened after all.

It’s while she’s perusing the alcohol aisle that she remembers she wasn’t having a good day. It is not a memory, but the _tap_ _tap_ _tap_ of a cane that makes her aware of the only other person out buying alcohol on this Tuesday night.

Because of course, of course she would run into Mr Gold now.

“Hello, dearie. Bad day?”

And she could lie, could fob him off, but she’s too tired and Henry is mad at her and Mary Margaret is mad at her and Regina is being held hostage in her own office by a mad drunk girl, and right now she could probably do with an ally. So she breaks protocol again, because after all she’s out buying the girl some alcohol when she should be trying to get her to give in to the police and not the other way around.

She watches Mr Gold as she tells him all, expecting a grin, small and slight or wide and smirking, but instead, when she mentions the girl and the rant and the fact that no one, no one seems to know who she is, he freezes. His hands tighten on his cane, and his face, well. She never expected to see the desperate look of hope in _his_ eyes.

“What was her name?”

And oh, now she feels stupid. Because of course she hasn’t asked. Too caught up in the drama, she had forgotten to ask the one thing she may yet need. So she does the best thing she can. Describes her. Young. Pretty. Blue eyes, chestnut hair. Small. Australian. A drunk.

“Drunk?”

And this, this snaps Gold out of his stupor, and yet again Emma has the feeling she is in the middle of a stage, a key player in a game she has never once discovered the rules to.

She shrugs, gestures to the rows of bottles before her. “She keeps asking for rum.”

And oh, isn't that odd. Because for a second his eyes light up, before his mask falls back in to place.

“Take me to her.”

It is a plea, a demand, a request so burning with pain Emma actually takes a step back.

“What? Why?”

“Because.” And his grip tightens on his cane again. His eyes close, and when they open again there is something else there, something she has never seen in anyone before. “Miss Swan.” He stops. Swallows. “She may be someone I lost. I have to know for sure.” It is the most naked she has ever seen him, and it makes her want to help him. Whatever is going on here, she has a feeling there is more than that simple statement involved.

If she wants to get this sorted at any point today, she might just need him, as much as the thought galls.

“Okay.”

A tension she didn’t fully notice escapes him, and he all but collapses in on himself.

“Thank you.”

“You’re paying.”

She grabs the nearest bottle of rum, at this point if the girl doesn’t want it she’s going to drink the whole damned bottle herself, and they step up to the counter. Gold doesn’t even blink when presented with the cost, and the teller, seeing who intends to purchase the drink, manages to stumble through something that sounds suspiciously like no charge.

But whatever.

###

They’re back at town hall, back in the room with the girl and the mayor, and Emma has to bite back a grin when she sees that, in her absence, the girl has made herself quite comfortable in the office, curled up on the sofa with a book in her hand, the mayor tied to the chair.

Quite where the rope came from, she has no idea.

The knife, she notices, is still in easy grasp.

But before she can announce herself and her companion, never mind offer the booze, the latter has limped into the room, gaze switching between the hostage and her apparent captor, his eyes wide and simmering with something Emma doesn’t quite want to name.

Before he can say something to set her off, Emma steps forward, offering the girl the brown bag. “Here.”

She takes it, confusion crossing her features as she pulls the bottle free. Her eyes swing back to Gold, and Emma’s follow suit when he finally steps forward, making a small, guttural sound. Before she can do anything, the girl is there, stepping lightly on bare feet, to his side.

“Is it you?”

“Rumpel?”

And then Gold sobs, just once, a heartbroken sound that tears at walls, makes them tremble with his pain. And then the girl is there, arms around him even as his cane clatters to the floor, letting him curl around her, his hold tight and consuming.

The girl takes it in stride, helping him, supporting him, her accent soothing. “Shhh. I’m here. I’m here, Rumpel. It’s okay.”

“I thought you were dead.” And then his eyes turn towards Regina, no longer brown but wild and black with pain and anger and whoa, what the hell has she manged to get herself caught up in?

“You told me she was dead. Scourged and flayed and why, why would you do that?”

The air is tight, something feeling like it is strangling all the oxygen from the room, rage and fury on a knife edge.

She needs to step in. Needs to stop this before it goes any further, before there is nothing more than a bloody heap at her feet. After all, he all but beat Moe French to death over this girl (for it must be the _her_ he wouldn’t talk about, the one he by all accounts thought dead); who knows what he’ll do to the one actually to blame for it all. Emma takes a small step forward. “Gold…”

But he ignores her. Reaches down for his cane, only to stop at the touch of the stranger’s hand to his arm. “Rumpel.”

And Emma can only watch as he deflates. “Belle.”

He turns to the girl, to Belle, a stranger to everyone but not to him. And then he’s kissing her, or she’s kissing him, it’s hard to tell. Because as the two embrace, the air shudders and trembles, and a light flares out from the two of them, a wind buffering her as it passes through, and Emma has the feeling something big has just happened.

Big with a capital B.

She hopes the girl won’t mind if she drinks all the rum. Something tells her she’s going to need it.

* * *

End


End file.
